Written during the afternoon of Saturday, April 17th, 1999...
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Lately I've been feeling very close to losing it, busting out in the open and confronting the demons of my past. It's something I know I should do. I've been told it over and over again in the last few days. I just don't know that I can. I'm not strong enough, but if I let it go, bad things could happen.
Yeah, this sounds cryptic. No, I can't come out and say what's bothering me. It's just something I have to either deal with or run away from. There are no easy answers. There are only two others I can even talk to about this. Never have I been so afraid in my life. I've been told I have real strength of character, but if I did, this never would have become such a problem. Every night I go to bed and wish that I'll wake up as a different person with a different set of more manageable problems. Funny thing is that even though I'm agnostic an old Christian tale I was told in Bible school a long time ago has stuck with me. A woman going through a very difficult time in her life had a dream in which she was talking to God. She was carrying this heavy burden on her back and was telling God how she didn't think she could cope with that kind of load -- that soon she'd stumble, fall, and lose her way. God offered her a chance to change all that. They were in a field amongst hundreds of burdens. He told her that she could put down her burden and find another more suitable. He told her that she must find one that wasn't too heavy or too light, but one that she thought she could carry. For a long time she went about the field picking up other burdens and trying them on for size. She found many too heavy and many too light. For a long time she searched and searched. Eventually she found one that was just right. Of course, it happened to be her own burden. Supposedly God had taught her an invaluable lesson. Does this mean I believe that I can handle my burden? Does it mean I believe in a higher power or that we only get what we can handle? Not necessarily. It's just something that keeps me going for some strange reason. I may not buy into fate or God or predestination, but for some strange reason that almost justifies things to me. There are people out there with heavier and lighter burdens than mine. I'm still alive and don't lead a terrible existence for the most part. Sure, there are the nights where I lay in my bed and cry because I'm not sure I can handle it. There are nights where I write lotsa scary stuff which sounds like I'm going to do myself bodily harm. There are many days where I sit somewhere and what-if things. What if I don't make it through the day? What if a car hits me and I'm gone from the planet? What if that guy walking behind me has a gun and has just decided he doesn't like the looks of me? What if I quit existing? How would the world be different? Would it be a release? Would I be at peace with myself? There are no answers for these questions and I usually force myself out of those scary thoughts because there are people that need me. I can't let those people down, so I have to keep going whether I'd personally like to or not. Sometimes I'm afraid of what would happen if those people who I think need me were to suddenly disappear. What if they were all gone and nobody needed me? What would I do then? Would I feel that I'd outlived my usefulness and save a little bit of the world's resources by getting rid of myself? It's scary but true. I need people to need me or I have no reason to be here. Maybe that's selfish in a way. I don't know. Truth be told, I don't care if it is or isn't. We're all selfish in one way or another. |